


attracting honeys like a magnet

by plinys



Series: ABC Fic Challenge [22]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 12:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5047927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It’s like you want to get picked last on the soccer team or be sacrificed first in a Mayan ritual.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	attracting honeys like a magnet

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place in some vague, before season two started, setting, okay? Also part of my ABC fic challenge, "v" for "virgin"

“Wait. Are you actually serious right now?”

“As serious as a heart attack.”

She snorts at that, tipping her drink backwards to finish off the last of her slightly stale beer, before fixing Lincoln a scrutinizing look.

There’s no flicker of movement from him, no twitch of an eyebrow to indicate that he might have just lied to her. And yet, she was certain what he said could not possibly be true. There was no way, not with a face like his.

“Bullshit.”

“I think, if anyone would know, it would be me,” Lincoln points out.

And yeah, she couldn’t argue with that one.

Unless-

“Doesn’t mean you’re not lying,” she insists. “Though why somebody would want to lie about this, blows my mind. It’s like you want to get picked last on the soccer team or be sacrificed first in a Mayan ritual.”

“First off what does this have to do with soccer? And before you answer that, you do know that the Mayan’s didn’t actually sacrifice virgins,” Lincoln says quickly. “Right?”

She didn’t.

Not that he needs to know that.

After all, not everyone can be a _doctor_ , some had to settle for high school dropout status.

“Of course I did.”

This time it’s his turn to make a noise of disbelief, and she casually flips him off, before grabbing another can of beer (determined not to let this one sit so long that it goes flat).

“Yeah fine, whatever maybe I didn’t,” she says dismissively, “That’s not the point here.”

“What exactly is the point,” Lincoln asks. “I get so confused with you.”

“The main point here is,” she says, forging on ahead, brushing off his teasing comment, “You are telling me, that you, Doctor Lincoln – wait, what’s your middle name?”

“I’m not telling you that.”

“Secrets don’t make friends,” she retorts back. Before assuming the same announcer like voice she had been using moments before “That you, Doctor Lincoln –Insert Middle Name Here- Campbell, despite probably having seeing _millions_ of vaginas while undergoing training to become the best doctor to ever exist in the entire universe, has never gotten down and dirty in between the sheets with another human being?”

He wrinkles his nose at her.

The only sign of disapproval that she has been able to get out of him, since she showed up unannounced at his apartment a mere two hours before with a six pack.   “Very classy, Daisy.”

“So you admit it!”

“I admitted it before,” Lincoln points out.

“Yeah, but I didn’t believe you then.”

“And now you do?”

“And now I do,” she agrees giving him a mock toast that he doesn’t return.

“You know, buddy if you need some help with that-“ she starts, only to get cut off by Lincoln.

“I’m good,” he says far too quickly, and for a second she thinks she sees his cheeks coloring the faintest hint of red, but he quickly looks down before she can determine whether his flush is from their drinking or from embarrassment. “No thank you.

“I don’t know whether to be offended that you don’t want to sleep with me or- no, I’m mostly offended.”

She’d been turned down by people before, told she was rushing things, and sure she didn’t want to just have a one night stand with Lincoln and then never talk to him again. But she had been pretty sure that Lincoln was into her, that or she was just really bad at detecting whether people were flirting or – “You’re not gay, are you? Because this totally happened with Mack, and if you are, let me just say that I totally support you and you do not have to have sex with me. Also I have a friend whose number I could give you if you’re into super buff black guys."

“I’m not gay,” Lincoln says, quickly.

Perhaps too quickly.

She squints suspiciously at him.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Really sure?”

“Positive.”

At that she relaxes her suspicious gaze.

“Well then, why don’t you want to have sex with me? Because let me tell you Lincoln –Insert Middle Name Here- Campbell, I am a highly sought after specimen of attractiveness and sexuality.”

“I’m not even going to touch on that one.”

“It’s probably best you don’t,” she reluctantly agrees.

A silence falls between them after that. And she’s almost certain that she’s not going to get an answer out of him, at least, not one that isn’t some sort of clever diversion. So she takes another long drink, before pushing one last time.

“If you’re not into me you can just say so, Lincoln. I don’t mind.”

She didn’t not really.

She may have liked to pretend to be super offended, but Lincoln only had to say the word and she would back off forever.

“No, god no – it’s not that. I- it’s not you, it’s me,” he says, before grimacing at his own words. “Let me try that again.”

“Please do.”

“I don’t need pity sex,” Lincoln tries this time, though he still pulls a face at his own words. “Not that having sex without you wouldn’t be great-“

“It would rock your world.”

“Thank you, Daisy,” he quips sarcastically.

“Our sex would be electrifying.”

“And there you go again.”

“Look, Lincoln, I’m just saying, if you ever need somebody to help you take the edge off, or get it one and done once and for all,” she says, “You know where to find me?”

There’s a long pause again. One in which she almost thinks he might even be considering it. Which she would still be super down for, because she’s a little bit tipsy and Lincoln has kinda been the hottest thing around since she woke up back in the creepy inhuman capitol city months before.

But in the end he doesn’t take her up on it.

He just shakes his head once, and then once more, before setting down his practically untouched beer onto the end table, and asking the one question she cannot answer.

“Do I?”


End file.
